


When Goodbye's Come

by orphan_account



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fanfic, Gen, League of Assassins - Freeform, loa - Freeform, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-25 09:00:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2616059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doing a series of three versions that Oliver could leave for the League--here's version one. (All Olicity-based)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Through the Comms

“Oliver, are you there? What’s going on?” Felicity tried desperately to find a camera near where they were at, but couldn’t find any security footage to hack. She had no eyes, it seemed, to see what was happening.

A noise behind her in the foundry had her spinning rapidly to see who was approaching. She sighed in relief when she saw Digg and Roy bounding down the steps before turning back around and sitting in her chair.

“Come home, Oliver. Digg and Roy are back,” Felicity said into the mic, closing out of programs on her computer. She was met by the shallow breathing of Oliver through the comm, not acknowledging her in the slightest.

“Oliver?” She asked, brow furrowing in confusion, “Can you hear me?”

“Yeah,” he breathed heavily into the mic, and suddenly she heard a rustling through the comms, voices entangling with the static and Oliver’s breathing.

“We’re leaving,” a harsh voice rang out, and she heard Oliver’s breathing quicken in her ear.

“Give him a minute,” Another voice said, much calmer, and suddenly the rustling was gone, replaced once again by Oliver’s shallow breathing.

“You’re really freaking me out,” Felicity laughed, but a panic filled her stomach at his long silence.

“Will you do something for me?” Oliver said, his voice heavy in her ear.

“What—” Felicity began, confused at his dire tone, but he stopped her.

“Just listen,” Oliver said, and she quieted anxiously.

“Make sure you watch over Roy,” Oliver began, swallowing loudly, “And let Palmer be by your side—he treats you well. You deserve that.”

Felicity sat a moment in confusion before she flung around in her chair, meeting Roy’s eyes as he looked at her panicked face solemnly, before glancing down at his feet, avoiding her glance. Felicity felt her face blanch in horror as Oliver continued.

“And don’t—” Oliver stuttered a moment, regaining his composure, “Don’t give Digg and Roy too hard of a time. I made them let me go.”

“No,” Felicity cried in understanding, “Oliver you can’t—”

“It’s the only way,” Oliver said softly, “Just one more thing—”

“No!” Felicity felt tears threaten her eyes, but she wiped them harshly away, pounding her fingers on her keyboard as she tried desperately to think of any way she could stop him. She searched desperately for anything to get her in—but there was nothing. The dock they were at was almost technology free. She couldn’t stop him. Felicity beat her fists on the keyboard in a frustrated panic.

“Goddamit Oliver, you are not doing this!” Felicity’s sobs strangled her voice as she begged. He couldn’t leave. Not like this. Not without a proper goodbye.

“I need you to forget about me,” Oliver said in finality, a resolve clear in his voice as he talked over her pleas.

“Goodbye.”

“No, I swear to God Oliver—” she begged.

“Felicity,” he breathed her name before the comms went flat.

She sat a moment, frozen as the static filled her ears, before it hit her hard. 

“No!” She yelled, frantically pulling out the comms from her ears.

She got up from her chair, facing Digg, who looked across the room at her sadly. A rush of anger filled her chest, and she stalked towards him.

“You didn’t stop him!” She cried manically, her face eye level with his chest. He stared back at her silently, shaking his head slightly.

“Felicity—” He began, but she pushed past him. She was only a foot away when he grabbed her gently around the waist, pulling her towards him.

“I’m going to stop him! Somebody has to!” Felicity cried and began beating her hands against Digg’s chest as he pulled her towards him.

“I’m so sorry Felicity,” Digg’s voice broke on her name, and with her head buried in his chest, her anger turned to sobs, and she let the grief consume her.

She had thought she had lost Oliver that night after Sara’s death—but she had been wrong.

Nothing compared to the blinding grief that flooded her emotions—her entire body wracking with the sobs of his absence. As Digg held her, she finally knew what it felt like to have her heart break. And the stories hadn’t done it justice.


	2. The Foundry

Oliver stopped, frozen at the top of the stairs to the foundry, staring at Felicity in an almost horrified trance.

“You’re here!” Oliver exclaimed, before shaking his head, wiping some of the emotion off his face quickly as he came into the light.

“Yes, why wouldn’t I be?” Felicity laughed, “So what did Ra’s say to you?” she asked instantly as Oliver came swooping in the foundry. For once, they were alone, with no Digg or Roy trailing behind him. She tried desperately not to notice how long it had been since they’d been alone together, instead following Oliver as he stalked to the case that held his bow.

“What?” He asked, brow furrowed, looking at her in surprise like he hadn’t known she was there. She gave him a strange look.

“I said, What did Ra’s say to you?” She repeated incredulously at his distracted state.

“What makes you think he said something?” He asked almost defensively, before turning back to the glass case his bow was normally stowed in. Instead of putting it in though, he began grabbing handfuls of arrows out of the case, gathering them. 

“Well the comms suddenly went out without notice and I couldn’t get through, so I figured he wanted to talk to you privately. AKA, something important to say,” She said slowly, as though worried he wasn’t catching on. He looked up at her a moment, before glancing back to his task of packing up weapons.

“Sudden desire to gather ever pointy thing you own?” Felicity asked, trying not to flush at any possible innuendo, instead planting a hand on her hip and cocking her head indignantly at him. He ignored her, instead walking over to his small bed in the back of the foundry.

He yanked a duffle bag from under the bed, stuffing s few loose shirts and belongings into it and zipping it up before setting it lightly on the bed. Finally, after a moment of staring down at it, he looked up and met Felicity’s eyes.

“Help me out here, because I’m lost,” Felicity begged with a laugh in her voice, but as Oliver stared stoically back her smile faded.

“Oliver?” She asked simply, reaching a hand out to him and gripping his arm, taking a step close to him.

“Ra’s made me an offer joining the League,” He stated, staring impassively at her, waiting for her response.

“Well I’m not really surprised, you’ve had nearly as much training as any of them—” Felicity stopped the beginnings of a ramble, head snapping to the duffle bag at Oliver’s side.

“Are you insane?” She yelled, finding the sudden urge to throw the duffle bag. Giving in, she grabbed the handles, yanking it off the bed and to the floor. It bounded softly, not giving her any of the satisfaction she craved.

“You’re actually considering this?” She asked, her voice full of panic and anger. She tried desperately to channel her anger—she couldn’t handle the panic. It would overwhelm her.

“No, Felicity, I’m not considering it,” He stated, and she felt a momentarily sense of relief before he continued, “I’m accepting.”

His words echoed across the foundry a long moment, before her vision started to blur with unshed emotion, her heart beating loudly in her ears.

“No!” She yelled angrily, “You did not work this hard to go back like this—you are not a killer. You do what is best for the people in this city—you’re not a cold blooded murderer,” her breathing was harsh, and he switched quickly from impassive to rage in response to her heated cried.

“Felicity, do you think I want to do this?” He questioned loudly, “That I want to join this League that most likely got Sara killed—that has gone after people I love?” He asked her, and she felt a heat flare in her face at his anger.

“I have no idea what you want anymore Oliver! I never would have thought you would do something so unbelievably—” She stopped, mid yell, as she noticed his shoulders shrug at any insults she was about to throw. She calmed herself fractionally, watching his enamored breathing a moment.

“You know me better than anyone Felicity,” He said softly, and she blinked hard, thinking and considering him.

“Why are you doing this Oliver?” She asked, but her voice was low and hoarse, pleading with him. Begging to understand.

“I don’t have a choice,” Oliver said brokenly, and she felt her heart contract as the anger flooded from his eyes and he stared at her helplessly.

Felicity thought a long moment, before she finally voiced what she knew was the only thing that would make him leave. The only thing that could convice him to go.

“So you join them and everybody you love is safe. They’ll protect them,” Felicity stated.

“I need you guys to be safe,” He said, shaking his head.

“And what ever made you think you weren’t up for the job?” Felicity asked, trying to bring his eyes back to hers.

He was silent a moment, before he sighed heavily.

“This is what I can do to keep you safe,” He restated, “Being here…”

He looked Felicity up and down, stepping close to her. He tucked a loose hair of hers behind her ear, before stepping back and blinking hard.

“I’m just making it more dangerous for you.”

“So that’s it—you’re just going to leave? What about the city? You dedicated yourself to saving it, and you’re going to abandon that?” Felicity asked, wiping away a determined tear that leaked down her cheek.

“Digg can put on the mask as easily as I can. And I’ve trained Roy,” Oliver started, but Felicity interrupted him angrily.

“Yes, and what about Roy? He’s counting on you—he believes in you,” Felicity said, hoping to make some sort of an impact, but he remained consistent in his excuses.

“And he’ll understand why i had to go,” Oliver said, and Felicity felt a panic creep up her neck. This couldn’t be happening—she couldn’t lose him. He was so close to walking out that door forever. She couldn’t lose anybody else.

“And what about me?” She asked loudly, finally abandoning her anger and letting her panic and despair consume her as her pleas paralleled with sobs.

“Felicity,” he half begged, taking a step back, but she thundered on, forcing him to hear this. Begging him to stay.

“I have given everything to this crusade of yours—to you. Don’t tell me you’re leaving me now,” Felicity abandoned all pride at the thought of him, cold and calculating. An assassin. She couldn’t let that happen.

“I can’t lose anybody else, especially you,” Felicity cried.

“You have Ray!” Oliver yelled back, trying to regain the control he felt slipping.

“But I love you!” Felicity yelled back, and Oliver froze, staring at her. She felt power seep back into her at his hesitation, and thundered on.

Love. You. Oliver,” she cried back, “I shouldn’t—I should love somebody that is willing to love me back. That is willing to be there every day for me—but even though you drive me nuts, and you’re the most stubborn person I have ever met. I love you.” She said.

Oliver struggled to regain his composure, but he floundered a long moment, the turmoil evident in his eyes. 

“I have to go,” He said instead, and her vision went hazy as he grabbed the duffle off the ground passing her.

“Oliver please,” She said, and he stopped, still facing away from her.

“Don’t do this,” She begged, and she watched his hands clench and unclench as he considered, before they halted at his sides.

“I’m sorry,” He said brokenly, before making his way out of the foundry.

Felicity wasn’t sure how long she stood there in shock, trying to understand how she could have lost him, but when Roy finally showed up he took one look at her and pulled her in close—but Felicity was out of tears. Oliver was gone, and she was numb. Felicity was broken.


	3. Through a Bay Window

Oliver knew he should have just left—gotten going before anybody tried to stop him. He had managed to get Digg and Roy to let him walk away, but he knew once they told Felicity he had left to join the League she would try to convince them to look for him. And that was a risk he couldn’t take.

But something made him hesitate. Before he could help himself, he found his feet leading him on a once familiar path, although instead of riding the streets in the back of a car, he scaled the building until he sat perched on a roof across from the large bay window.

It was dark through the window, but a dim lighting across the kitchen let him see slightly into the small apartment.

He had only been in it a few times in his life, but each one was significant. Once, the night he had spent the night in Felicity’s room when she had refused to let him sleep in the foundry, alone, after what happened with Slade. Another, when he had finally let himself grieve over his mother and she invited him over for mint chip and old movies. And finally, the night she had helped him with his speech to regain Queen Consolidated.

Three short visits, but somehow looking into that small apartment helped dim the panic he felt over joining the League—for just that moment, that little space gave him a comfort he hadn’t felt in a place since he had left the mansion. A feeling of home.

Suddenly, the lights to the apartment flicked on, and Oliver cowered deeper in the shadows as light shined across his bare face. He realized suddenly, he had forgotten his mask at the foundry. Not that it mattered—Felicity was completely distracted and oblivious to the large window, instead looking dazed as she stumbled in her apartment. 

Oliver watched, a pain growing steadily in his chest as he studied her—the woman he loved. She was more beautiful than anything he had ever seen, despite her slightly frazzled state. Her normally high pony tail had sunken messily to the nape of her neck with small tendrils escaping around her face. Her bright red lipstick had worn off mostly, leaving her lips stained a bright pink. She had unbuttoned the top couple buttons of her blouse and untucked it from her skirt, revealing a deep blue bra beneath it that he forced himself to tear his gaze from.

Oliver watched as she slid off her heels, kicking them carelessly to the side as she walked to the couch, grabbing her blanket off the back of the couch and pulling it over her lap. 

She sat a still moment, and Oliver moved a touch closer, intrigued at her expression, one that he had never seen her wear before.

She was a ghost of Felicity, haunted and pale as she stared blankly in front of her. She was frozen for a long minute, and Oliver stared unblinking at her, willing her to react—show him some sign of what she was thinking.

She reached to her left, grabbing her phone off the small table next to her. She scrolled through it a minute, her brow becoming increasingly furrowed and her face more concentrated until she suddenly set the phone back down, staring down at it with a tormented look clouding her face.

She reached for it slowly again, pressing a few buttons before she held it up to her ear, waiting.

Oliver felt his phone go off in his pocket, and he glanced at it only long enough to confirm it was her before he tucked it back again, continuing to watch her. She listened long at hard into the phone, even after it had stopped ringing in his pocked. He watched her listen to his voicemail recording. Watched as she shut her eyes hard, concentrating on his voice. Watched as she kept the phone to her ear even after he knew the recording had to have ended, soft tears leaking from the corners of her eyes, causing her to discard her glasses absentmindedly, tossing them on to the table.

Slowly, she pulled the phone from her ear, staring down at it a moment before shocking Oliver as she launched it hard across the room, smashing it into the wall.

His heart ached as he watched her wipe angry tears off her cheeks, breathing heavily and hiccuping as she tried to collect herself.

She got up from the couch, accidentally kicking her purse that lay on the floor. She sighed heavily as the contents spilled out at her movement, and pushed her hair out of her eyes as she went on her hands and knees, gathering the random items.

Suddenly, she stopped, pausing on something in her hand. Oliver watched curiously as she rocked back on her heels staring down at her hands. He watched as her lip quivered ever so slightly and sobs took over her body. She turned slightly, burrowing her head in her arms on the small table in front of her couch.

Oliver’s eyes brimmed with tears as he watched her, and they flooded onto his cheeks as he realized what lie in her outstretched hand.

It was his mask


	4. Fight For Me

Felicity watched Oliver’s shoulders clench and unclench as he leaned on the table of the foundry, the muscles in his back rippling under his dark shirt. His head cocked slightly at the sound of her heels on the cold floor behind him, but he stayed turned from her—rigid.

"I’ve been looking for you," Felicity said simply, walking up close behind him. She reached tentatively and as though he could sense it, he tensed. She let her arm drop to her side.

"You found me," Oliver replied dryly and Felicity finally got a look at what he was staring down at on the table. A simple duffle bag, filled with necessities. It was half zipped, like something had stopped him. A lump formed in Felicity’s throat at the sight.

"Oliver, we can find another way—we always have before. This isn’t how it has to be," Felicity started, panic flooding her voice, and Oliver finally turned towards her in result. His eyes were surprisingly absent of his cool resolve and they flared with an unresolved heat.

"Felicity, there is no other way," he said with a broken passion, "To get Ra’s out of the City—to keep everybody safe, I’m going to have to try to kill him."

"He can’t be killed! He’ll kill you!" Felicity exclaimed, and Oliver blinked hard, knowing he had to say the words out loud. The truth was what he had always told Felicity—that couldn’t change. Not even then.

"He might," Oliver affirmed, and that doubt in himself caused Felicity to protest passionately. 

"You don’t have to do this Oliver, we can protect everybody while we try to figure this out. We just need a little more time," Felicity started, her words hitching as she tried to speak past the lump in her throat, her skin flushing with emotion.

"I can’t take that risk," Oliver said, his voice rough.

"I can’t lose you!" Felicity burst, tears finally streaming unbidden down her cheeks. Oliver’s heart clenched at the sight, and he moved closer to her instantly.

"Hey, hey," Oliver cupped her face, "Shhh," he wiped a few lingering tears, quieting her sobs. He let himself have this small moment, reveling in the feel of her skin against his before slowly pulling his hand from her, trying not to notice the way she leaned into him in an effort to keep him there.

"I have to do this," he said quietly, and it was in the way she nodded sadly that he was once again hit with how much he loved her. Despite every qualm and outrage and disagreement—Felicity understood him best. She understood that in that moment, there was only one way he could think of to keep everyone safe. She knew that better than anyone.

He went to turn away from her, reaching for his bag, but the touch of her hand on his arm halted him.

"I love you," she announced quietly, and he whirled back towards her, eyes widening in shock. An almost laugh bubbled over her lips at his reaction, as though she had surprised herself just as much as him.

"You… no, you’re with Ray,” he stated as almost a question, and her eyes widened in shock.

"I’m not with Ray!" she exclaimed.

"But I saw you, at the office," he started, and her face filled with understanding.

"You were there?" she almost flinched.

"I came to see you," he said, "And you had moved on."

"Oliver, really?" she asked, dumbfounded that he didn’t see it— how couldn’t he see it?

"I didn’t move on! And even if I did—you gave me no choice. You pushed me away. Do you think I want to not be with you? You told me you weren’t even going to try to live a normal life. You didn’t want this,” she gestured between them, “You didn’t choose me. You told me you loved me—but wouldn’t fight for me!” Felicity’s words grew to flustered and confused cries, and Oliver blanched at her words.

She really didn’t know.

"Felicity," he breathed her name, "I thought it was better for you if we were apart."

"That wasn’t your decision to make!" Felicity exclaimed, and Oliver considered her words.

"But you could get hurt—" Oliver protested, and Felicity bit off his words.

"Every day I live is dangerous—with you or without you. I could die any day and being with you doesn’t change that," Felicity, willing him to understand, "I love you!" she annunciated each word with a strength and passion that awed Oliver, stepping closer so their bodies brushed against one another as they breathed.

Before he could protest—even though he wasn’t sure if he would—she was reaching her arms up around his neck, guiding his mouth down to hers as she stretched on her toes to meet him. As her soft lips crashed into his, he responded instantly his arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her flush against him.

He tried, desperately, to control himself, but as her tongue urged him he opened to her, meeting each kiss with equal passion. It was different than their last kiss, although both were goodbye. It was filled with an understanding—a love. It was somehow both tender and crushing. They were equals.

"I love you too," Oliver spoke against her mouth, feeling her tears on his own cheeks. He remained too long with his arms around her before pulling away from the temptation of her proximity, turning from her.

He mechanically zipped the duffle the rest of the way on the table beside them, slinging it across his chest, before looking back to Felicity.

"Promise me you’ll come back," she said, voice tired, and he almost smiled at the memory.

Slowly he leaned forward, lips brushing softly on her forehead, lingering just a second—he allowed himself a simple moment—not too long, he couldn’t have any more, he decided and pulled away. 

His silence to her request wasn’t unnoticed, and she sucked her bottom lip in her mouth to keep unwelcome cries down as he turned from her, walking determinedly up the foundry steps. She stood still a long while after the door swung shut, her fingers resting on her lips in memory.

When she finally turned, her eyes met the fern. It was a sad green, wilting over the sides of the pot, and she felt the sudden urgency for it to thrive. For it to live.

She wasn’t sure what compelled her to walk over to it, but she couldn’t help herself.

She grabbed her water bottle out of her purse, plopping down in the chair in front of the plant and slowly dumping the water in before resting her head in her hands, watched as it absorbed it greedily.

"He’s gonna come home," she said softly, wiping a lingering tear off her cheek before resting her hand on the pot, "He better come home.”


End file.
